


Broken Hallows

by RayneReier



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Fantasy, High Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:48:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28344177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RayneReier/pseuds/RayneReier





	1. Fleur: The Minotaur

Fleur cursed Krephine’s name for the umpteenth time that day. There was no way she was going to outrun the minotaur in her heavy plate mail. She could hear it pounding the earth behind; storming through small trees and underbrush. The clearing ahead would make an okay place to fight. It would give her the space she needed to neutralize the beast’s strength. And at the very least her body would be easier to find.

She had seen glimpses of these creatures before and had even been chased down by one before. It had been sheer luck it was severely wounded. This one was just angry. Fleur didn’t know whether she had intruded on its territory or it was simply out hunting but something told her not to ask. 

“If this is how you see fit to punish me then so be it, but f*** off nonetheless,” she shouted into the sky as if she needed to voice her message in order for her God to hear it. “It’s not like you f***ing listen anyways.” A loud roar tore across the clearing as the pursuer crashed through the last of the brush. Fleur turned to address her new acquaintance, “I wasn’t talking to you! You can go back… to uh… wherever you came from!” “Why are these the only things that care about me,” she added to herself as she drew her longsword, banged her shield, and swung her visor down.

The first clash was picturesque until Fleur got tossed back to where she started like a ragdoll. The battle wasn’t fair but she knew that and adjusted accordingly. She knew she couldn’t take many blows and her opponent could. With running not an option, Fleur made the choice to lean on endurance. Despite its speed and power, after sparing for only a short while the minotaur was clearly losing its steam. By now its quarry was either dead or long gone, Fleur was neither. Even receiving several rough blows she had managed to deliver what she felt like was more than her fair share. She did have training about precise attacks, strong defense, and quick reactions but it was through git and tenacity that she typically won. She never got knocked down, just forcefully moved to a lower altitude. The wear of the battle began to show on Fleur as well. She began taking more blows and getting up a bit slower. After a particularly harsh set of strikes, the combatants took a moment to breathe and stare each other down. Fleur recognized that this was it. The next few blows would decide it. She spoke a quick prayer to Krephine because despite her general dislike for her deity Fleur really didn’t want to die. If praying to some mythical creature that didn’t even know she existed increased her chances of survival she would pray. 

As always, she felt a bit of a surge of renewed energy. It felt awkward; a bit tingly. All of her classmates in the temple described it slightly differently but it was always a sense of reinforcement and assuredness. That someone was there and had your back; that you weren’t alone. Fleur didn’t feel that, but she hoped the tingles helped. 

The paladin made the first move and stepped into a charge. The minotaur matched it and unleashed a tremendous roar. Time felt slowed for Fleur as the distance between the two closed. She noticed details about the beast she hadn’t noticed before. From the deep black of its eyes to the dirty white of its long horns that reached for the sky. She was in awe of its strength yet saw its weaknesses. While it was terrifying, it was naught but a living creature. Her thoughts were interrupted as she was sent flying through the air by the living creature. It wasn’t a matter of a miscalculation or distraction; it was how battles of endurance go against monstrous beasts twice her weight even with armor. This landing hit harder than the previous ones and just to add to the hurt the extra momentum slammed Fleur into a tree. She sat up mostly dazed but also slightly annoyed at the turn of events. Luckily she had enough presence of mind to recognize her opponent initiating what would likely be the final charge of the fight. She felt the tingly feeling slip away but ignored it and staggered back up. The beast shoulder-checked her into the tree with a resounding crunch. Fleur felt her feet leave the ground and chest plate cave. For a couple of seconds, the clearing was quiet. She was pinned off the ground against the tree by the hulking mass. She flailed her feet in a feeble attempt to kick at it. Fleur could hear her own extremely labored breathing and the minotaur matching it. She smelled its reeking musk of damp fur and a fowl diet. She could also feel hot stickiness seep over her hands and begin to soak her armor. The glint of metal protruding from the minotaur told her she got her sword up in time. “I guess it does bleed” Fleur thought grimly. The minotaur staggered back and Fleur hit the ground yet again. It looked up in the air and gave a strangled howl of pain before beginning its descent. Fleur cursed as it came careening downwards on top of her. 


	2. Erebwolf: The Stranger

“Not drinking again, wolfy?” Lanslet laughed.

“Only to make sure you chuckleheads get home. By nightfall I ‘spect you won’t be able to find your way back to the bartop.” Erebwolf replied loud enough to get a chuckle out of the local barmaid, Europa. 

“Erebwolf is right. Without him here you guys would get kicked out before your night even begins!” Erebwolf gave her a kind smile. His pack had been coming here since they were legal, maybe even a bit before. Europa’s father had put her to work in the family business. Often the only two sober people in the pub, the two became quick friends. 

Another voice popped up, “Wolfy isn’t the only sober person here tonight!” Erebwolf’s brother, Alaric, flashed Europa a smirk and a wink. 

“She’d never go for you. Set your sights on one of the many other women you have tried to woe over the past week, or even one of the men.” Erebwolf coached his brother as Alaric tried to lean over the bar to get a better look at Europa as she walked away.

“What do you mean? Who wouldn’t?” Alaric laughed as he did a quick flex to show off his tree trunk biceps given to him by a manual labor job, lifting heavy things as a “hobby”, and barbarian genetics. 

“I… Uh… Well…” Erebwolf cocked his head with a smile as Europa leaned on the counter in front of an attractive female patron and laughed at something. “You know what? Go for it. But I didn’t endorse anything.” 

The night continued as most did in The Duchess Arms. With Alaric less drunk than usual and capable of walking everyone home Erebwolf was free to stay after close to chat with Europa.

“Good luck brother!” winked Alaric as he led the rather drunk group of large patrons out of the bar. 

“One of these days his obliviousness will get him into trouble,” Erebwolf chuckled as he put some chairs up. 

Europa shrugged, “And for the meantime its entertainment.” They both laughed in agreement. After catching up a bit, Erebwolf bid farewell and took to the dark streets. Lost in his own thoughts he almost missed a figure stumbling towards him in the darkness. He didn’t like to keep weapons on him but a few mishandled bar fights convinced him to add a hatchet to his belt and knife into his boot. 

Slowly he drew both and shouted, “Who goes there!” When the figure didn’t stop, he commanded, “Halt! I do not wish for any conflict!” The figure didn’t head his request. Erebwolf began to ask again when he noticed several other figures turned the street corner. By their torches, he could make up masked faces, dark robes, and sharp steel. One of them pointed towards Erebwolf and shouted something he couldn’t quite make out. As he tried to work out the situation the figures raised crossbows and fired. Erebwolf ran up to the stranger as they hit the feel to the ground.

A warning came Erebwolf’s way, “Stay back if you know what is good for you!”

“What is the meaning of this?”

“It’s none of your business but if you want to make it then you make yourself our business!” threatened one of the dark robes as they began to approached Erebwolf. He had dealt with thugs before but only with other people. He gauged the group of three and didn’t like his odds.

“Listen, maybe we can talk about this. I’m sure there is good reason for this,” he attempted even though he knew of few legal reasons to be shooting a stranger in the middle of the night. 

“If you don’t back off we might feel the need to make you.'' At this point, Erebwolf realized diplomacy wasn’t going to get him far. He gripped his handles and decided to let them make the first move. It wasn’t a well-coordinated assault but it was still three on one. Erebwolf tossed the first foe easily and engaged the second opponent. The third slipped behind and got a good slice at his arm. Fighting was part of the barbarian culture but rarely did they fight armed or strike to kill until military service. Avoiding killing blows added to the difficulty of the fight; quickly the bandits began to wear Erebwolf down. After a particularly deep cut, Erebwolf felt rage begin to course through him. They were taught young to control it and Erebwolf learned how to quite well. Tonight he made good use of his education.

He felt the pain peak and then dissipate completely while his body drew on his reserve of strength. Erebwolf dropped his weapons to catch the next attacker by the arm and hurtle him down the street. The dropped torches gave an eerie light to the brutal fight that had quickly turned tides. The barbarian ignored blow after blow and returned them twice as hard. Two quick strikes dropped one opponent and a disarming maneuver left the last fighter in a chokehold.

Erebwolf growled, “Maybe now we can talk about this?”

“No… No, we really don’t need to. I think we get the message.” 

Erebwolf gave a grunt of approval and shoved the figure forward, “Go. Now.” The figures took a few heartbeats to regain their wits before limping down the street back into the darkness leaving their weapons and torches behind. Once they were gone Erebwolf groaned and tenderly check himself.

“Now who do we have here?” He asked to no one in particular as he began to check on the stranger who lay face first in the dirt. 


	3. Hazel: The Exodus

Some dreams felt real. The ground would feel a bit more solid, the voices would have a bit more emotion, and the smells; the average dream didn’t smell of a rank bar filled with drunk patrons nor a warm bowl of vegetable broth in front of her. Her dad always took special interest in these; she would tell him about this later. For now, she turned to the scene before her. Around her sat five figures; murky in face but clear enough in figure. She didn’t recognize the mountain of a man that sat in front of twice the number of plates and a mug double the size of all the others. Nor did she recognize the lithe girl leaning up against him. The girl gave off an aura that sent shivers down her spine even through the dream yet her laugh was bright and airy. The woman on the other side of the large man was smirking with an expression that said, ‘I know something you don’t’. The attitude was oozing off of her. Next to her sat a woman partly dressed armor. The heavy plate armor combined with the religious pendant suggested a cleric or more likely a paladin given the hefty sword leaning against the chair. The final patron’s face was filled in; she recognized him as her good friend Iztoz. Izzy was cackling at something and his energy forced a smile to her face. She was just beginning to wonder what brought on this strangely yet normal scene when a voice reached out from just beyond the plane.

“Hazel! Hazel hun! You must wake, you must go!” Hazel awoke immediately on guard. 

Hand sliding towards the hidden knife she tested, “Hermes?”

“Angel.” The cloaked figure anxiously responded watching the corridor. The response revealed the character to be Bennet, her father’s close friend and most trusted advisor. She was told this day might happen but it was never implied to be soon. “There is time but not enough. You’ll make it but not silently. Curse the night guard.” She knew the drill although only walking through it once and quickly donned a dark cloak to mask her figure. Bennet began to lead her to the castle cellar. 

She knew better than to ask questions but asked anyway, “What has happened? Why tonight? Will Oden be alright?” Since she had come of age her father had always insisted on being called by a proper name and King Rolland Oden-Taua des Vaux made her uncomfortable so his nickname of “Oden” would have to do. 

“Oden will be fine, I trust him completely.” Despite the attempt at assuring her, Hazel wasn’t very convinced. There was strain to the old man’s voice. As they approached their destination a distinct click echoed through the dark. 

“Abyss?” A voice called out.

Without missing a beat, Bennet responded, “Glare”.

“Clear”

“Hermes carrying Angel!”

“Basilisk carrying Jocose!” Out of the shadows emerged two cloaked figures. If the callsigns didn’t give away the duo, the equipment certainly did. The taller figure wielding a long-barreled rifle and several satchels was the castle’s gunsmith, Jelde Dufour. Next to him was Iztoz Dufour, his son, with a revolver. Normally Iztoz practically oozed mischief but tonight Hazel could feel his unease. 

“Come! We haven’t much time.” Jelde continued. A couple of corridors deeper Jelde but his hand up in a motion to stop. “There are too many people down here.”

Bennet took a moment to listen, “We were slow to react. We need to go loud.” Bennet allowed a flash of magic to begin to gather in his hand and the Dufour’s readied their guns. Hazel looked down at her dagger; she knew a bit of magic but not much of it was practically useful in a fight. While Oden supported his daughter becoming a mage, he was heavily opposed to her learning dangerous spells. The Dufours went first down the stairs. The group crept into the balcony of the “working library”. In contrast to the large and prestigious library in the castle proper, this room was filled with workbenches and worn tomes. During the day there would be mages and carpenters at work but now the dim light shone on several cloaked figures rummaging through the room. The centerpiece was a raised platform with a large circle of runes beneath an ornate chandelier. Bennet gestured to it to remind Hazel of their goal.

The Dufours drew out their religious pendants and spoke individual prayers before fire on the intruders. It took a heartbeat for Hazel to get used to the loudness of the firearms. She had been to their range many times but it was far from a common sound. The intruders were equally shocked but regained their bearings and engaged the group. Jelde quickly emptied his rifle and exchanged it for a pair of shortswords. Iztoz covered his father while making his way towards the arcane ring. With Bennet the trio made short work of the small enemy force. Jelde began reloading and Bennet knelt down to fill in the required runes for the arcane circle.

“There are more coming, Hermes; and we need to get back to Shepard.” Bennet neglected to reply only to begin casting a spell under his breath. After a tense while, a sound began to reach the group. Hazel could hear distant swords clashing and the occasional crack of a firearm. 

Jelde walked towards the main entrance opposite from the one they came through and announced, “They’re here. We are going to have to fight through them. Are you done yet?”

Bennet shouted, “Get in you two!” Hazel obliged and stepped into the center of the circle. She had only been told what this did and was not excited to experience it for the first time. She saw Iztoz hesitate and look back at his father. 

“Go. You heard him.” Jelde ordered. Reluctantly Iztoz stepped into the circle and grabbed Hazel’s hand as Bennet finished the incantation. The last thing Hazel saw was a nod from Bennet and a flash from Jelde’s rifle.


	4. Hazel: The Letter

Hazel finished throwing up with Iztoz cursing under his breath in the background. Wiping her mouth, she stood up to look at where Bennet sent them. The room was pretty bare. The door led to the interior of a quaint cottage. There was a layer of dust over everything but the building as a whole seemed to be well taken care of; there was not obvious damage. 

“Do you know where we are?” She asked Iztoz.

Iztoz pouted, “No, of course I don’t. Why would I? Me coming along was not part of the plan. Or if it was I was never informed.” Hazel grimaced. She knew he wasn’t going to take leaving his father in a fight easily. She didn’t feel great leaving the castle behind either. Bennet and Oden were already sore wounds but sitting on it wouldn’t help. 

“We were sent out for a reason.” Hazel thought out loud.

“Yeah? Would you like to share that reason with me? Clearly I wasn’t informed.”

“I’m sorry, listen Izzy, I didn’t know either. We always talked about this like it was a precaution for some far future. Now I’m regretting not asking more questions. Oden and Bennet never told me you were coming with but I suppose it makes sense. I wouldn’t leave without at least you.” 

This seemed to calm Iztoz down a bit, “Yeah… I know you didn’t know much. I’m just frustrated at getting a chance to help and losing it almost immediately.”

“Yeah… Me too.” She looked down at the dull knife. Quietly they began to look around. “Why here? Though. What’s special about this place?” 

Quickly, Iztoz provided the answer, “Here. There was… or is a door here of some kind.” It was dark even with the candles lit but he had found imperfections in the stonework that produced a rough rectangular outline.

“So how does it open?” Iztoz only responded with a shrug as he began to feel around in the dark. Hazel lit him a torch and continued to explore the rest of the cottage. A door in the kitchen led to a stocked pantry. It wasn’t stocked enough to last a season but it was well organized. “This place was ready for us. But I can’t believe we would be expected to stay put.” She shouted back to Iztoz. She wandered outside to see if she could recognize the surroundings.  _ It’s inherently hard to recognize a seemingly endless forest, but a quick peak couldn’t hurt. _ Outside she found a water pump and a wood pile that told the same story as the pantry. Iztoz gave an excited shout when Hazel walked back inside. 

“Took you long enough. I thought the apprentice tinker would solve the simple door a lot quicker than that.” She jest.

“Har har. And I’m no longer an apprentice, remember? I passed my studies last tenday.”

“Yeah yeah I know. Come on, wanna see what you discovered?” The room they entered was awkward and cramped. It seemed to be made from spare space between the rooms. There was a large wooden crate and a rucksack. Hazel flipped open the crate to reveal a wax-sealed letter.

_ Dear Hazel, _

_ If you are reading this letter, it means a series of events have taken place that I have no control of. As much as I wish for you to remain near, I send you away to hope that we can see each other again in the future. I can’t explain all the events; past, present, and future; for fear your driven nature and caring personality led you right back into the danger I sought to distance you from. I am sorry I waited so long to send you away and didn’t get a chance to say goodbye or explain anything. It was an old man’s selfishness that wished for every day he could spend with his daughter before their inevitable separation. I digress.  _

_ The castle has enemies, inside and out. We have received scattered info that an attempt at a hostile takeover was imminent. The enemy is unknown but seemingly everywhere inside our walls. Bennet and Jelde have done wonders in discovering the depth of this plot. We believe we know enough to thwart their plans. But not enough to risk having you close by. We will do our best to handle this situation quickly so you can come home. But right now you need to stay away. It hurts me as much as it hurts you, but it gives us the best chance to see each other again.  _

_ I did not send you away without thought. You currently stand in an old cottage Bennet and I discovered in our more “adventurous” youth. When you came into my life I realized that I may need to send you away for your safety, so Bennet came back and fixed this place up. More recently, he came back and dropped off this chest and rucksack (which is for Iztoz from his father). It was important that you had a safe place to gain your bearings after a potentially traumatic departure.  _

_ I know you well enough to know you aren’t going to stay put for even half the time I ask you to, so instead I need you to do something. There is something bigger coming to this continent. I need you to be ready for it. I am still unsure as to what it is, but I know it is coming, soon. I cannot prepare for this. With the castle duties and this nefarious plot, I simply do not have the resources. Seeing as you will want something to do, and I need an excuse to keep you out of imminent danger, I need you to figure out what this “Event Horizon” is and how soon of a threat this is. It is a lot to ask of you, but I must. There is a man named Wimarc Guajira in Dalhurst, he knows more than I do. There is a map enclosed that shows how to get to the nearest village, Sheepshead. I trust from there you can find your way. Please take care. _

_ On that note, I’ve sent Iztoz with you. I wish for him to keep you company and protect you on your travels. Jelde and I decided it was best for him to go with you for both of your safeties. Additionally, I have left a gift of sorts for you. It was created by a team of mages overseen by Bennet. None of them could be sure about whether it worked, or how it works for that matter… As I am writing this I am beginning to regret some of my decisions. They were all fairly excited about the project and seemed to have faith in their product but I have my doubts. If anyone can figure it out, it’ll be you. Just please be careful with it, it seems dangerous (Bennet assures me it's totally safe). _

_ With that I close this letter wishing you luck on your task (and hope you wish me luck on mine). If all goes right Bennet should find you within the next two lycles and bring you home. I’ll pray for you on both the new moons. Don’t come back without him, you will have no idea what you are walking into. Don’t get into too much trouble while you are roaming free, please? But I can’t stop you. I know you will do good in this terrible world, I just hope beyond hope the terrible doesn’t catch up with you. Trust in Iztoz. Trust in yourself. _

_ With Endless Love, _

_ Oden _

After hearing of the troubles Hazel wanted nothing more than to head back to the castle. She wanted to go back and protect her own but her father was right. Even in the brief conflicts on their escape she was useless, just a burden to be carried. She scowled.

“You good?”

“... Yeah. Yeah I guess so... It’s not everyday you are told to leave.” Iztoz started to interrupt but Hazel continued. “I know, I know. It’s for my own safety etcetera etcetera. I just can’t be useless. And it seems he knows that.”

“He does. He also says you’re not. Sounds like we have a job to do, and given some tools to do it.” Iztoz gestured at the sack in his hand. “I’m going to take this out to the front room for some table space. Knowing my father, this sack will not have a centimeter of wasted space.”

“Sure. I’ll meet you out there in a bit.” Hazel watched him exit before looking back to the crate. She tugged on the black cloak shrouding the rest of the chest. It was heavier than it appeared. As the cloak revealed the objects she felt a presence. It began as something light like a slight confusion. The feeling grew to that of being watched by one, then several creatures. There was no hostile intent though. She felt a curiosity invade her from all sides; poking and prodding at her mind like a child with a new pet. She reached out to the feeling. To her surprise, it responded. She was overwhelmed with a swarm of feelings and thoughts that were far too chaotic and overpowering to understand. She felt her mind slipping slowly in madness. Her eyes blurred and ears buzzed as her senses dulled. Desperate for something she reached out and encircled the consciousness and held it. She hugged it tightly until it slowly began to still. When her senses came back she was on the floor. Her forehead was soaked with sweat and her whole body ached. 

She poked at it. It flared up but stayed tightly held. Groaning she wobbled back up and towards the crate. Inside there sat six pristine daggers laying in a molded cushion. They appeared to lack the traditional ergonomic handle and left the simple metal unadorned. She hesitated reaching in. _There is no way Oden would give me something dangerous..._ _But maybe he didn’t know. I have to do this though._ Hazel carefully lifted a blade out. When nothing happened she let go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Without the added wood or leather wrapping, the thin metal that made the handle was uncomfortable and bit into her hand. Even with her little experience in blades, it didn’t seem to be very practical. _Great._ She huffed and put all blades aside to dig further into the crate. The only remaining item was a series of leather straps that seemed to form a harness. _I guess this is how you carry these._ She filled the six dagger sheaths and tried to put the thing on. After a bit of struggling she gave up and walked back towards the main room.

“Took you long enough. You were in there for ages. I cleaned up your mess in the teleport room so you owe me one. What do you have there?” Head still spinning slightly, Hazel slumped down at the table with Iztoz. 

“I really don’t know. It seems to be some sort of weapon. But I don’t understand it, or why Oden would give me a weapon.”

“Maybe you’re supposed to learn. After all, if we really are supposed to be doing this task we may need to protect ourselves from a really dangerous world.”

“Sure. It just feels like I’m missing something. What did your dad leave you?” Hazel zoned out as Iztoz started monologuing about various materials and components that he promised would be absolutely vital to their success on their journeys. She just nodded along and focused on not poking the presence that taunted her from within her own head.


	5. Erebwolf: The Decision

Erebwolf yawned awake in his cot in the Limkerf Manor. His three bunkmates were missing. He had slept in later than usual after the previous night. He needed to go check in with Europa. The unfortunate side effect of being a member of the Limkerf Family was that secrets became news very quickly. The only place he could think to bring the stranger left on the street was the place he just left, The Duchess Arms. First though, he had to get breakfast as per family rule. He lightly groaned as he put on a new shirt and stretched his arm. His bruises weren’t that bad all considered.

The watering smells of breakfast reached his nose before he stepped into the dining hall. The large space comfortably held dinners for thirty and sparring matches on special occasions. Now there were about a dozen large men and women, not all human, creating a gentle buzz of conversation and clinking plates.

“There’s our hero!” Lanslet shouted from their typical table. “Had I known you were going to pick a fight we would have stayed to watch!” 

Erebwolf chuckled and wandered over. “You know I don’t like picking fights, it seems as though a fight may have picked me.”

“You won it though right? I mean, unless there wasn’t a fight... Oh, so that’s why you stayed back. I wouldn’t have guessed Europa was that rough.” Alaric winked and made a suggestive gesture. He sat back and grinned, pleased with himself. 

Erebwolf rolled his eyes as he took a long swig. He knew better than to try and explain himself to his brother, it would only encourage him. While most of the Limkerf Family was not blood related, Alaric and him were. They shared many physical features such as short black hair, dark eyes, a round face, and a body type that suggested some ancestor got with a goliath. But Erebwolf could never match Alaric’s immaturity or his ability to turn apathetic in a moment’s notice. 

“Surely not. Right Erebwolf? There is no way…” Elisot gawked. Somehow Alaric would manage to lead her on despite how ridiculous some of his claims would be.

“Believe it or not, I hoe myself ‘round a lot less than Alaric may suggest. Did the twins go to work already?” Wulfled and Blenak made up the last two Limkerfs that regularly accompanied Erebwolf to the bar. While Lanslet or Alaric instigated a lot of the fights, the twins were always more than happy to join in. Erebwolf would be sad when the time came to leave his family behind. It wouldn’t be for another couple lycles but eventually all were pushed out to make a name for themselves. 

Erebwolf’s meal and small talk was interrupted by a voice bellowing across the room. “Erebwolf! To the Sir’s office please!” Erebwolf recognized the voice as one of the house messenger’s. Elisot gave him a quizzical look while Alaric smirked. 

Erebwolf shrugged. “I’ll be back in a Shine, don’t you dare touch my food while I’m gone.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Lanslet responded already reaching across the table. In the moments it took to get to the office for the male leader of the Limkerf family, Erebwolf couldn’t think of anything that would warrant a call to the office. It was a fairly rare event warranted by very serious matters. 

“Come in.” The commanding voice of Thrumm resounded through the thick oak. Erebwolf walked in to see both the Sir, Thrumm, and the Madam, Rhunnu, of the family. While Thrumm wasn’t noticeably bigger than Erebwolf, he had an aura that made Erebwolf feel compelled to obey his every word. Rhunnu was similar except it was a desire to obey her every word and failure would amount in disappointment so great, death would be preferable. 

“Welcome Erebwolf” Rhunnu greeted. Erebwolf knew better than to respond.  
Thrumm began. “Early this morning, an envoy came to our door. As a prominent family in this town it’s important for us to know what happens. The envoy hailed from the mercenary group, Whitecrown. They are curious if a stranger wandered through here in the past day. Would you happen to have seen anyone out of place last night?” Erebwolf’s heart began to pound. There was a reason he didn’t bring her to the manor, but family came first.

“Before you answer. Thrumm and I discussed the potential outcomes. I’m sure you are well aware the Whitecrown’s employers are typically sketchy at best but we stay out of their way for them to stay out of ours. This does not mean we approve of their actions, but we encourage you to make your own judgement. If you saw nothing, feel free to say. However we understand if it may take until nightfall to remember thoroughly.” Erebwolf held his breath as he realized what they were saying.

“Separately, we are giving you a limited time opportunity to leave the manor early.” Thrumm let his words sink in. “Today, if you think it best, we are willing to send you off. We know its a two seasons early, but we feel like you are ready. Tomorrow we may not feel the same. Do you understand what we are saying?”

“A better question is; do you comprehend it?”

“I…” Erebwolf’s mind raced to fill in the blanks. “I believe I understand, and comprehend.” 

“If you wish for a send off. Please come back by midday. If not, feel free to make your report at dusk. We are giving you an opportunity here, don’t waste it. You are dismissed.”


	6. Erebwolf: The Departure

Erebwolf hustled down the street to The Duchess Arms. He didn’t know what to expect. Last night was kind of a blur. Europa practically forced him to go home soon after arriving at her doorstep. There wasn’t much he could do to help and the later he arrived back at the manor the more curious his family members would get. He had faith she had managed.

A quick knock got him into the tavern. Since it was closed until the evening, the many of the chairs were still up where he put them and the bar counter was still as spotless as Europa left it. Only an isolated corner of the room was in disarray. Several tables had been haphazardly pushed together and littered with a variety of items including food, the tavern first aid kit, and a bottle of alcohol.

Europa visibly sighed with relief when Erebwolf walked in. He was surprised to see her in such a reasonable state despite how intense last night seemed. “Are you okay?”

She took a deep breath. “Who have you brought me Erebwolf? If you know you really must tell me. What have you gotten yourself into?”

“I… I don’t know. I just asked myself those same questions.”

“Oh my gods. You really just act don’t you? Well, luckily your friend has some answers.” She gestured over to the tables. Last night Erebwolf didn’t get a good look at the girl he had saved. Without the black cloak and in the dim light of the tavern she looked extremely normal. She looked easily younger than both Europa and himself, enough that he would hesitate to hand her a drink. It seemed as though Europa had no qualms about it as the girl had a mug in hand. As he stepped closer she looked up. When their eyes met Erebwolf flinched and a shiver went down his spine. There was nothing unusual about her light brown eyes, but a deeply rooted animal instinct screamed danger. He managed to shake it off and keep going but a feeling of unease had settled over him. Europa and him sat across the table. He reached out a hand only for her to jerk hers away. 

Abandoning his attempt he greeted her. “You may don’t recognize me but I recognize you. My name is Erebwolf, I met you last night on the street and brought you in here. Do you remember that?”

“No… But Europa told me you would be coming.”

“I have come back to check on you and to bring news that you probably already know. A group of mercenaries are looking for you. Now your attackers last night didn’t appear associated so it seems you are in a lot of trouble with more than one group that wishes you harm.” Her shoulders drooped and her hand began to quiver, shaking her mug. Europa reached her hand half way and caught the girl’s eye. Europa gave her a little nod then steadied the mug and placed it back on the table.

“Yeah… I know. I’m guessing you aren’t turning me in. But you’ll want something from me.”

“I didn’t not come here to turn you in, but you can’t stay here. Luckily, I think I can help you...” Europa raised an eyebrow but remained silent. “I may, be able to help you. You are correct though. I need something from you first. I need to know who you are and what you are running from.”

She sighed. “I figured you’d want to know at some point. My name is Jolicia.” She paused and glanced at Europa who shrugged. “I’m running from an arrangement.”

“An arranged marriage?”

“Yeah.” Erebwolf sighed. After last night it was hard to tell this girl no and it was clear that the Sir and Madam of the family knew more about this than they let on. But the suddenness made him uncertain and the tension in the room didn’t make it easier. “Europa, can I talk to you real quick? Privately?” She gave a nod to Jolicia and led him back behind the bartop where they could still see the tables but were safely out of earshot. 

“What do you think you can do for her and what makes you think you are in a position to provide it?”

“Thrumm and Rhunnu know.”

“Oh my gods. Then what are you doing here? Are you mental? And mercenaries?”

“I can’t just turn her in. And they gave their blessing. Well, kind of.”

Europa paused. “I know, you have too good of a heart. I suppose she should be counting her blessings that it wasn’t Alaric leaving the bar late, or some ruffian.” She shuddered. “What do you mean ‘their blessing’?”

“It means things get real complicated if I say nothing and they find out. Thats given they don’t already know, which it was heavily implied that they do.” Erebwolf rolled his eyes. “But they were kind enough to give me an out if I don’t want to turn her in.”

“You disappear with her.”

“Yeah…”

“So you are leaving then?”

“I have to. I don’t think I’d be able to live with myself if I condemned someone like that”

“Surely you could…”

“No. Even if somehow I can get by without consequences, what about her?” They looked over at the girl sitting at the table. Somehow she looked smaller than before. Erebwolf grimaced. “I can protect her. I can try.”

“Ugh, why do you have to be so noble? What about yourself? What about your life here?”

“I have to go at some point. I can’t stay here forever. Helping someone sounds like a good reason to. Yeah, I know. It hurts me to leave. But I will come back.”

“You better, or else I’m coming to get you.”

“Thanks.” Erebwolf gave Europa a hug.

“She’s lucky to have found you. Please be safe.” 


	7. Hazel: The Paladin

Hazel wasn’t a huge fan of walking through the forest but Iztoz would not stop complaining. 

“Why couldn’t Bennet just teleport us to a nice inn or something? At least somewhere within a Zine’s walking distance, or half a day at most.”

“Relax, walking for a day and a half never killed anyone. At least, not that I know of.”

“I bet plenty of people died from it.” Iztoz pouted. “And you don’t have to carry a full pack. This thing isn’t light.” Hazel looked down at the weird harness she opted to carry for now. She also had her own basic pack she found put together for her in the cottage. It had a couple changes of clothes and some rations, however it was not nearly as heavy as Iztoz’s pack full of materials. The forest was calm but darker than she would have liked. The sparse leaves, a telltale sign of the Crimsonsurge season, gave an eerie look. The lack of any sound set her on edge. She couldn’t wait to get into a village.

Iztoz spoke up when the sun began to tuck itself beneath the treeline. “Hold up. There is something up ahead.” He carefully took off his pack and drew his pistol with a flourish. The revolver was a relic from his father’s more shouded past. Iztoz never told Hazel if his father had ever used it but Iztoz loved it. Jelde Dufour didn’t believe in engravings on his weapons but Izotz did. There were the inklings of some designs. Iztoz was by no means an artist, but Hazel thought he could do well. 

Iztoz began to creep forward towards something in the woods. He motioned for her to stay back. Hazel rolled her eyes and followed right behind him. She saw what drew his attention. It wasn’t easy to tell from a distance but several trees had been knocked down in a very aggressive manner. Iztoz gave Hazel a quizzical look. She pointed at a set of massive hoofprints. After a quick glance around he approached the prints and pointed in the direction they continued. Together they followed the wake of the giant creature. The path led to an empty clearing. Hazel noticed significant disturbance in the dirt but Iztoz was clearly focused on something else across the clearing. He continued to carefully advance towards a large lump. A glint of metal caught Hazel’s eye and she ran forward. He tried to stop her but she shoved his hand aside caught up in her own anticipation. 

It was clear the beast was dead. The mammoth of a creature would have easily towered over both of them. The sharp horns curving out of its head and large hooved feet produced a terrifying image. She could smell it's damp fur and the stench of blood. The question of its death was answered simple enough. A sword dripping in blood protruded from its back. The owner of the sword drew more of Hazel’s attention.

“Help me shove this thing off.” She pushed but it just budged. Iztoz holstered his revolver once he was satisfied the creature was not going to get back up. Together they managed to roll the beast over. Beneath lay a knight of sorts dressed in nearly full plate armor. Hazel hesisted. She recognized the armor a bit.

“There is no way he is still alive.” Iztoz concluded looking at the dented armor soaked in blood. Hazel reached down and unstrapped the helmet. 

“She actually…” She froze. Her mind finished putting the pieces together as Hazel got a good look at the woman’s face. Her dream the previous night flashed in front of Hazel’s eyes. The face of the paladin fizzed into place. There were coincidences between her dreams and reality before but this time she was very suspicious. The paladin was approximately Hazel’s age.  _ She is who I could have been _ . She reached down to feel the paladin’s face. It was warm and she could feel a pulse. “She’s alive. We need to help her.”

Iztoz looked towards the sky awkwardly. “Yeah. Sure, okay. Let me run and grab my pack. We’ll have to camp here. I don’t fancy trying to move her too far.” Hazel grabbed her canteen and washed some of the dirt and blood off the woman’s face. She admired her bravery for taking on such a creature. Hazel had a little training in first aid but figured she would have to give it a shot. It took her until Iztoz got back to figure out how to get the chest plate off. The piece was heavily dented in the center and soaked through with blood although it was difficult to determine whose.

“Ouchie. That armor is beaten up.” Iztoz winced. He set down his pack. “I’ll make our fire. See what, uh, see what you can do I suppose.” With a deep breath, Hazel reached in to feel about the woman’s chest for injuries. From what she could tell there wasn’t anything but she knew how deadly internal wounds could be. For now she opted to finish doffing the armor. A few moments after finishing, the woman stirred. 

“Hey hey hey. Can you hear me?” Hazel ran over and grabbed her hand. In response she got a groan and some movement which was enough for Hazel. 

“Hey our friend is alive!” Iztoz came back with an armful of firewood. Hazel gave him a sharp glare. He just shrugged and kept on. 

After a few moments, Hazel tried again. “Hey. What’s your name?”

“Fleur.” The woman responded although her voice was strained.

“Good, I’m Hazel. Are you in pain?” Fleur nodded. “Where?” Fleur tapped her chest which collaborated with her labored breathing. “Anywhere else?” She received a confused look. “Right, dumb question. Do you mind if I check?” By the time Hazel checked the rest of Fleur, Fleur’s breathing had strengthened. It was still labored, but more regular. Iztoz broke out some rations for the trio to split and unrolled the two bedrolls they had. 

“Would you like a set of clothes to change into?” Fleur, whose face was looking noticeably pale, graciously accepted. There was no way Hazel’s clothes would fit, she came up to Fleur’s shoulders at best. Even Iztoz’s clothes would be small. She gave him a look. “Yeah, Iztoz has some clothes you can borrow.” With a slightly annoyed look Iztoz passed over his pack with extra clothes. The night died down without much more conversation. Hazel insisted Fleur take her bedroll and settled for a rough bed of needles. 

She tossed and turned struggling to fall asleep. The anxiety from setting out alone was setting in. The mysteries of their new friend and the mysterious presence in her head didn’t calm her. She wondered.  _ This is stupid. This is so so stupid. I’m going to do it anyways though. _ The arms wrapped around the presence loosened. Ever so slightly. It started to seep out, like the early morning light through closed curtains. Hazel gave a little wave. All was silent until, to her surprise, it responded. Very quickly the same feelings that washed over her early that day started to flood back. Instead of simply absorbing them, she fought back. She directed a feeling of relaxation and calm at the presence, focusing on deep breathing and loosening her muscles.  _ Hey. It’s working _ . Taking a closer look at the presence it became clearly that there were multiple. The overwhelming energy and emotions had blurred several inputs into one. It was difficult to focus on one specific presence, but after a bit of poking she caught it. It was like an artist finally mixing exactly the right pigments to match a color or a musician tuning their instrument. They were rabbits in her mind. She had caught them yet couldn’t understand their language, only their emotions. Still, there was good information to gain. 

_ Who are you? _

***silence***

_ Are you the blades?  _

***excited bouncing***

_ Do you know me? _

***happiness and warmth***

_ Do you know Oden? _

***silence***

The awkwardness of the medium faded away and it almost felt like a normal conversation. It was clear the blade didn’t know a whole lot. There were six of them, Hazel made an effort to ‘meet’ each one although she couldn’t quite tell the difference between them. She also couldn’t quite manage interacting with multiple at once without getting overwhelmed but they seemed to listen to her requests to back off. 

At some point she noticed a glow coming from beneath her pack. One of the daggers was glowing.  _ Duh, how did I not make this connection earlier? _ She slid it out of its sheath and laid it before her.  _ Is this you? _ Before she could react, it shot into the air. Breathing hard she stared in awe at the floating dagger. The sudden spike in emotions caused her to lose her concentration on her mental conversation. As she struggled to regain the connection the blade began to dim and drop back to the ground. Hazel swore lightly. Quickly she ran back in to check on the presences. After a quick poke to make sure they were still there, she decided to go to sleep to stay sane. Her mind was beginning to spin; there was too much noise in her head. The moon was beginning to set when she lay back down. There was no way she was getting any rest.


	8. Erebwolf: The Fugitives I

He made the right choice even though it pained him to do so. Erebwolf said goodbye to all that he knew and loved to start a new chapter in his life. There was no way to see it coming but it wasn’t all bad. After finishing up at The Duchess Arms, he went back to the Limkerf Manor. Alaric couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, neither could the rest of his family. Fortunately a bland explanation for his early departure would suffice. At the end of it, they all were expected to leave the house eventually. Having a reason to venture off made Erebwolf happy and the rest of them proud even if they didn’t know the true reason. 

Thrumm and Rhunnu were not surprised to see him at midday. Erebwolf was grateful the ceremony was quick and inconspicuous. The burning brand on his shoulder and large rucksack on his back were his only relics of his past. He stopped by The Duchess Arms one last time to say goodbye to Europa. She was a strong woman and would keep his departure in mind but not in heart. He nodded in self assurance. With Jolicia in tow, he set off towards the nearest town of Stillwind.

“You seem awfully young to draw this much ‘ttention from dangerous folk.” Her laugh was bright and airy. Erebwolf couldn’t help but draw a smile. The unease that she brought about remained. He did his best to shove it down though.

“I’m… old enough that my age shouldn’t matter” She shrugged. He raised his eyebrows. Erebwolf was a large man with most taller people reaching his shoulder but this young girl barely reached his midriff. Her body type didn’t help; it suggested a distinct lack of manual labor. 

“Okay. Convince me.”

“Sure, how?” She said skipping ahead. Europa was kind enough to pack a light backpack for her but her clothes were worn and tattered.

“Not like that. Careful you don’t tear your stitch!” He laughed.

The pair made it to Stillwind as the sun began to dip behind the treeline.

“How much time do you think we have here?” She asked.

“I’m not sure. They probably don’t even know you are out of Mightmaw yet. No one but Europa and I knew you were there. Well, and the bandits I ‘sppose. No one knows which way we went though. I’d like to bed down for the night and do some shopping in the morning. Come on, I know a place.” Jolicia put her hood up and followed Erebwolf to the Nasty Otter Inn.

Erebwolf had been here before but was far from a recognizable face.

“Two rooms please.” He scanned the room to gauge the crowd. When he returned to the table he slid Jolicia a set of keys. She looked confused then closed her eyes and pursed her lips. A barkeep freed up and Erebwolf drew his attention. They both ordered. He was just beginning to relax when Jolicia tapped the table three times. He looked up and she nodded towards the door. Two heavily armored soldiers marched into the tavern. Their white helmets told all Erebwolf all he needed to know. He cursed under his breath.

“How…? It doesn’t matter now.” One of the two soldiers pointed at his table and together they started to head over. Erebwolf slid his hand down to his hatchet and readied for a fight. Right before the soldiers reached the table, the barkeep arrived with their food oblivious to the potential fight about to break out. Using the brief moment of cover Erebwolf stood up, grabbed the tray, and swung it at the head of one of the soldiers. Head clearly ringing, the soldier fell to one knee while the other tried to draw his sword. Erebwolf beat him to the punch and knocked the soldier to the ground. The shocked bar was silent but Erebwolf was glad to see Jolicia halfway to the door. He let the downed soldiers struggle to get up and chased after her. The noise from the tavern hadn’t quite reached the street and there were no more Whitecrowns in the visible area.

“Left. Into the woods.” Together they fled.

After a while, Erebwolf slowed down. “Now what?” Jolicia panted.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure what lies this way but we need to put as much distance between us and them as possible so I guess we keep going. Can you walk through the night?” He couldn’t see her expression but he doubted she was enthused. Erebwolf struck a torch and a dim torchlight lit the two; neither would be getting sleep tonight.


	9. Hazel: Ferine

Hazel opened her eyes to warm, rough leather. Confused, she groped at her face.  _ What? Where am I?  _ The curtain slid away to reveal the glaring light of the midday sun.

“Someone was tired.” Iztoz smirked from across an empty fire pit.

“I… Yeah, I suppose so.” Her whole body ached from the rough sleeping condition and her mind was still busy from last night.

“Can I get my jacket back? It’s a bit nippy.” There was an assortment of tools and materials carefully laid out next to Iztoz clearly belonging in the jacket’s pockets. She walked the jacket over and took a look around. Both the minotaur’s carcase and Fleur were nowhere to be seen.

“She is washing at a nearby river. An interesting character that one.” Hazel joined him near the smoldering campfire. “I didn’t know what to think of her when we first found her. But I have to give her some credit, she’s strong.”

“Yeah. Is she traveling alone?”

Iztoz cocked his head. “I didn’t think to ask, but I suppose so. I mean, if she wasn’t she probably now is.” He gestured across the clearing to the minotaur corpse. It had been moved away from their makeshift camp. 

Hazel winced. “Should I bring it up?”

“I… I probably wouldn’t. Here, have some breakfast. We have a bit until we need to set off to make Sheepshead before nightfall.” 

While she ate, Fleur returned. “Glad to see you are up. Sorry I stole your bedroll.”

Seeing Fleur at her full height and not soaked in blood was a moving sight. She had a regalness that Hazel should have had but came nowhere close. Hazel noticed she was staring. “N… No, I’m glad you used it.” She spat with a mouthful of oatmeal.  _ Idiot! _ “I got to… uh… experience all the aesthetic the forest has to offer.”

“Yeah? Does that aesthetic include a sore back?” Iztoz chuckled; Hazel shot him a glare.

“You know what? I value all experiences small and large. I think you guys are missing out.”

Fleur laughed. “In that case, I insist on trying out that sleeping arrangement next time.” Her damp hair fell back unrestrained giving her a wild look and Iztoz’s spare clothing only helped accent her muscular frame. “I’ll keep borrowing these for the time being, if you don’t mind. I.... uh…” The remnants of her previous outfit she held up could hardly be called clothing.

“All good. I took a look at your armor. A decent armorsmith should be able to repair most of this but this chestplate will need a good look at.” She shrugged.

Hazel decided to poke for information. “Fleur, who normally repairs your armor?”

“My religious sect has its own armorsmith.”

“Will you be heading back then?” Fleur slumped down next to the two around the fire pit.

“No. I don’t think I will be. I’ve opted to set off on my own.” Her body tensed like this was a sore subject.

“Oh! Well guess what? Izzy and I also just set off on our own. Need some traveling companions?” Iztoz shot Hazel a shocked look.  _ Hey she might need our help. Plus she looks… familiar.  _ As much as Hazel wanted to help this stanger, there was a part of her that needed Fleur for something. It was the part of her that recognized the paladin.

The paladin mimicked Iztoz’s expression. “Uh. Well. I mean you two did save my life and I’ll be below my best until I can get my armor repaired… Where are you headed?”

Iztoz rolled his eyes when Hazel didn’t miss a beat. “We are on our way to meet a man named Wimarc Guajira. We have information he is in Dalhurst. What do you say?” 

“Sure. I’ll come with you to meet this fellow then we’ll see where we stand.” In response, Hazel gave Iztoz a cocky smile. 

He just shook his head in good nature and began packing up his jacket. “Should we pack up camp then?”

The now trio began the half day hike. It was slow going with Fleur’s armor. It couldn’t be worn so it was awkwardly strapped on her back with some spare rope Iztoz had. Her breathing also slowed their pace. There seemed to be no pressing concern but she would be well below her best for the time being. While they were walking Hazel filled Iztoz in on what happened last night and the presence in her mind.

“Okay. Hold up. If there is a presence in your mind you have got to give it a name. Come on! If I had this epic voice in my head I would give it a bada** name like Shade or Locust.”

“Sure sure sure, Jocose.” She mocked.

“Hey. I did not get to choose that. Oden and Jelde picked that for me. If I got to choose… hmmm… Nightshade.” Fleur coughed back a laugh as she pretended not to listen. “What? It’s an elegant name that gives off an air of danger.” He mimicked firing his revolver with way more flourish than Hazel thought possible. “Anyways. Your presence, does it have a preferred name?”

“No, it doesn’t speak in a normal way. It’s hard to describe but it's like getting the meaning of the sentence without hearing the words.” 

“So like Mute, or Ghost.”

“No, that sounds dumb. Like I have a spectral being creepily watching over me. Which, to be fair I’m not quite sure what it is... “ She trailed off. “The feeling it gives off is like a cat sneaking through the night or a wolf stalking its prey so if it's going to be named anything it needs to be fierce.” By now Iztoz had long gone off on his own tangent coming up with more code names.

“Ferine?” Fleur suggested with a shrug. “It was the name of one of the local cats back where I came from. I always admired his independence from the rest. It means wild or feral”

“Better than Silence.” She rolled her eyes at Iztoz who was off monologuing to himself.

“So, Ferine. Does it have a physical manifestation?” Fleur asked.

“I don’t know. I think it might be these.” She lifted up the harness.

“I heard of spirits possessing an object but I’ve never heard of one tied to a person.” Hazel reached out to Ferine. It was getting easier to find it but she still couldn’t figure out how to use it. 

“I don’t know either. This was a gift. I’m still trying to work it out.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks, I’ll need every bit of it.” She smiled, she liked their new traveling companion.


	10. Erebwolf: The Fugitives II

Jolicia looked extremely fatigued as they stumbled out of the woods into a quaint village. He led the way to the inn. It was still closed but they didn’t need a bartender to make use of the warm building and comfortable booths. The warm bar provided a strong contrast to the cool morning. The creek of the door was the only sound above the crackling firewood. The classic scent of scale alcohol and wooden furniture filled his nose.

“You can nap if you want. I will stay up until the barkeep wanders down.” Despite the long night, Jolicia’s eyes were still wide open. She looked around the empty room and simply shook her head. “Are you sure?” He asked suspiciously. “I… uhh… I’m going to get some shut eye then if you don’t mind. Don’t hesitate to wake me.” It was not a good idea to fall asleep in the middle of a bar, but considering his circumstance it might be even more dangerous to be exhausted. 

Erebwolf woke to a poke. He looked up to see a elderly man carefully make his way down the stairs. He hadn’t noticed the two interlopers yet but was predictably surprised to see them. The old man did not seem keen to help out but Erebwolf managed to get the town’s name and some early breakfast for a bit of extra coin. He grimaced at the weight of his coin purse. His background meant he could make some easy coin doing tasks for the general populace but he would prefer a larger town; a city had more jobs and more places to hide. 

He spoke in a low voice. “I’m sorry but we need to keep moving. I think there is a large city three days north of here. That should be far enough we will take time to locate. It also gives me a way to make some discrete coin. Do you think you can walk another day?”

“I can certainly try.” She gave a weak smile. Erebwolf mentally shook his head; he would have to come up with something. 

When their food arrived the barkeep spoke. “Where did yall say you came from? We don’t get many strangers around here. Especially not many arriving as early as you did.”

“We come from a nearby village. We are just passing through.” The old man gave him an untrusting look and then wandered back to bartop.

“Ready?” She sighed and gave a slight wince as she slid out of the booth. He put his hand out to steady her but she moved away. He raised his eyebrows and turned to face her. The look he got back reassured him of his current purpose. He pushed out the doors and led them down the street.

It wasn’t yet midday when Erebwolf had to do something, she was slowing their pace down too much. “Listen, ride my back.” After some disagreement he swapped his backpack to his front and hoisted her up. Jolicia was clearly uncomfortable with the arrangement and continued shifting until she passed out from exhaustion. He enjoyed walking. When life would get a bit too much, Alaric and him would walk into the woods up to a nearby hilltop to get away from it all. While his circumstances now were vastly different, it was helpful to make the connection. 

He still wasn’t quite sure what to make of Jolicia. There were clearly more pieces to the story than he had but she wasn’t spilling. Whenever he would ask she would get evasive and turn away. It wasn’t his business, although it certainly felt like it now. He trusted her, but his gut constantly challenged it. It didn’t seem like she completely trusted him either. Erebwolf supposed that was fair, but it strained their limited relationship. When the sun had nearly set Jolicia woke up and insisted on walking. 

“Are we going to camp tonight?”

“Yeah, I think we are going to have to. I don’t want to run into something exhausted. We should be pretty safe though. As long as we go far enough from the path.” They wandered into the woods. “Are you okay with no fire? Are you sure? Okay.” Erebwolf was nervous about sleeping near Jolicia. Despite spending the past few days with her, the feeling of unease always returned. After a couple minutes he managed to fall asleep.

The first thing he noticed when he woke up was that it was still dark out. Jolicia had poked him awake, again. 

“Wha…?”

“Wolves.” Erebwolf cursed under his breath and rolled up into a crouch. Out of the darkness grew several pairs of glowing eyes. Without a fire he couldn’t see the creatures, but the eye level suggested larger than the average wolf. He had never had to fight in the dark and wasn’t thrilled about learning now. 

“Can you climb?”

“A tree?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes.” She responded from the darkness.

“I can try.”

He heard her scramble away, waited a couple beats, and then turned his back to the creatures to run. It took him a bit to find a tree wide enough in the dark. The creatures pounding the dirt behind him sent his heart racing. He scrambled up the tree as they nipped at his feet. Just as he lifted his legs out of reach, the branch he was hanging on to shifted then snapped. Erebwolf hit the ground with a thud. Fortunately the sudden movement seemed to push back the wolves. He lashed out with a couple kicks at their eyes, managing to land a couple glancing blows. Quickly, they started to overwhelm him. He went for the tree again. One managed to catch his boot but a swift kick against the tree freed his foot. This time the branches held.

“Are you okay? I heard a scuffle?”

He caught his breath. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine. Apparently I can climb a tree. Are you safe?”

She laughed. “Yes, in the simplest sense yes.”


	11. Hazel: Plans

It was just past nightfall when the trio wandered into Sheepshead. It was the type of village that looked like every other village, but it functioned. There was a soft hum of chatter from the local inn and a steady stream of farming folk passing in and out of the door. Hazel, Iztoz, and Fleur made a weird trope walking in. People looked at them twice, but went back to their alcohol laden business.  _ We stick out like pears in an apple basket.  _ Hazel approached the barkeep to see if there were rooms available for the night. The barkeep was a well built middle-aged man. He didn’t quite reach Fleur’s height but looked about as strong.

“What can I do for you?” His voice was gruff but respectful.

“Do you have rooms available for tonight?” He raised a finger then walked to a thick binder on the edge of the bartop. After a moment he nodded in approval. “Can we get two?”

“Of course.” After settling up, Hazel asked Iztoz and Fleur what they planned for the rest of the night.

“I wouldn’t mind grabbing a drink and chatting for a bit.” Iztoz shrugged looking towards Fleur. 

She responded as they walked upstairs. “Sure, I wouldn’t mind. Although it probably would be best to get an early start to tomorrow.” Hazel agreed and they skipped the drinks.

Hazel started the next day walking to the local general store to purchase a map. The journey to Dalhurst didn’t look too far. From what the owner knew, Dalhurst was a city, however it wasn’t a large one. It had many of the amenities of some of its more well known counterparts so it would be a good place to stay for a bit. Before she returned she also purchased some additional rations for the group. Fleur was down in the dining room nursing a cup of coffee when Hazel got back. 

“Maps and food” Hazel explained as she approached Fleur’s table. “You should go see if there is a tailor in town to get some better fitting clothes.”

“Yeah, I’ll go in a minute. I presume we are grabbing breakfast before we head off today?”

She nodded. “I’m going to go wake Iztoz. Knowing him, he is either working on something or still sound asleep.” Hazel carried her purchases up to the room she shared with Iztoz. Her friend was still passed out in his bed when she got there. 

“Come on Izzy, breakfast time.” He groaned away. “Yes, you have to get up. We have places to be and people to see. I’ll be downstairs.” She added the map and rations to her pack and brought it down with her. Iztoz had managed to roll out of bed and had begun his morning prayers. Hazel knew it was supposedly to Shodur, the God of Tranquility, but she secretly held doubts on whether such Gods even existed. As Odin said on the matter, ‘it is on those who feel it concerns them to decide whether it is real or false. For whom it doesn’t concern, it doesn’t matter whether it is real or false’. She gave him a curt nod and headed out, as much as Iztoz complained he was reliable. 

Fleur came back carrying Iztoz’s spare clothes and an extra set presumably for herself. Over breakfast the two chatted about future plans. It was easy to talk to Fleur. Sometimes with Iztoz it was hard to get past the mischievous and sarcastic matter, but there was a realness to Fleur that Hazel appreciated even if it scared her a little bit.

“Dalhurst, I’ve heard of it before. Used to be a big soothsayer town. Something happened a while back and it all fell apart.” Fleur seemed to know a lot about the local geography.

“So we are in the province of Meshax? Still on the continent of Norvell?”

“Still? What do you mean still?” Hazel waved her off. “Whatever, yes Meshax is fairly disjointed in regards to governance. The biggest cities have their kings and offer protection to lesser towns in exchange for goods.”

“How far is Meshax from Eskye Coast?” She tried to ask innocently.

Fleur gave Hazel a curious look. “Eskye Coast is on the complete other side of the continent. I mean, I guess a tenday given no major obstacles which is unlikely for a journey of that length. Why do you care?”

Hazel was speechless but Iztoz saved her by walking down and loudly announcing his presence. “Hey you two! Ready to continue on our exciting adventure?” Hazel had a foreboding sense that the journey would turn exciting in all the wrong ways.

Unfortunately there were no regular caravans to Dalhurst and independent contractors were extremely reluctant to go. According to the merchants, something came through the town slaughtering all the townsfolk. The local king didn’t even receive news until the weekly caravan wandered into an empty town. There wasn’t much information on what they had seen, but due to its history as a soothsayer town the events didn’t bode well. If even those inclined couldn’t predict their own downfall was any of their “magic” real? Or what type of monster came after them? There were a lot of questions that people were hesitant to seek out the answers for. 

Iztoz rolled his eyes. “It’s not like we can NOT go after hearing all of this. It’s too interesting to pass up. It’s an important spot on our sightseeing trip! Full of mystery and intrigue!” He made sweeping gestures with his hands as he spoke.

“I mean. Wrong reasoning, but right answer. As much as I want to go…”  _ Home _ . Hazel shook her head. “We’ve been asked to find this Wimarc Guajira so… Fleur, are you sure you still want to come with us?”

“Most of my armor is still deadweight, but it’s not like I can repair it in this town. I’d rather not travel alone until I can get it fixed. It may be a bit dangerous, but a little danger is inescapable in this world. If you avoid it in one place even more will come and find you.”

“Uh. Sure. I appreciate you coming along.”  _ I was going to beg you if it came to that. Having a strong fighter on our side is really helpful. Not to mention our clear link, although I can’t tell her that. And on top of that she is quite… _

“Hazel? Hello?”

“What? Huh?” She found herself staring at Fleur and quickly broke eye contact.

“I was asking about your blades. Have you figured them out yet?”

“No not quite yet.” She reached back and the scrambling slowed a bit, almost like a city guard walking into a rowdy bar. 

_ Uh. Hey. How’s it going? _

***excited bouncing***

_ That’s… That’s good. I’m glad to… hear? it. Um. So what can you do? _

Before that thought finished an immense strain was building in Hazel’s mind. Something was pushing its way out and that barrier she had hastily thrown up was breaking down. Panicking, she let it go. The overwhelming noise returned although it was more defined this time. It was like trying to listen to six different people talk in completely different languages. Hazel closed her eyes and covered her ears trying to shut out the noise.

“Hazel! Stop!” Her eyes flew open to see the blades flying around in an extremely dangerous fashion. Fleur had dropped her armor and was using her shield to defend herself and Iztoz, although it didn’t really seem like they were being attacked. 

_ What is going on? Am I doing this??? No, are you doing this??? You are! Stop! STOP!  _ With that exclamation the blades halted mid flight then clattered to the group. The noise in Hazel’s head retreated, like a child scolded by it’s parent.

“Yeah, looks like you have it all figured out! Now we just have to convince our enemies to stand near you and we got them.” Iztoz gave a cheerful thumbs up from behind Fleur’s shield.

Fleur gave a harsh glare. “Maybe next time a warning would be nice.” 

“Sorry. I don’t really have it under control.” She could feel her face had gone red. The trio took a couple minutes to calm down before resuming the journey to Dalhurst.


End file.
